


Old Sins Cast Long Shadows

by Ashley_Reid



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Background Relationships, Dark Ritual, Jealousy, M/M, Post-Dragon Age: Origins, Romance, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13205268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashley_Reid/pseuds/Ashley_Reid
Summary: Inquisitor Vaxus has taken a liking to Morrigan, much to Dorian's chagrin. Now our favorite magister is on a mission to prove Morrigan is up to no good in order to rid Skyhold--and his lover Vax--of her presence for good.





	Old Sins Cast Long Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ajir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajir/gifts).



> This one-shot was written for the reddit art/fic exchange! I did not create Vaxus--he was the character I was given as my muse. ;) What fun! I hope you enjoy it! As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated. :D

He didn’t like her from the moment he laid eyes on her. There was something about her he couldn’t quite put his finger on… an unmistakable aura of ebony and ivory and casual smugness, which under any normal circumstances he could likely appreciate, but there was something else just lurking beneath that undeniably pleasant yet mischievous-looking exterior… something far more sinister. Something hidden and elusive. At least in Tevinter, you knew what you were dealing with. Scoundrels, through and through. Everyone had an agenda. Everyone was selfish and out for their own gain. Alright, well, perhaps not _everyone,_ Dorian reasoned. He, after all, was asking people to believe he was one such exception. But he did find it was always best to assume the worst about people—then you could at least be prepared for the consequences. And if by some miracle they turned out to be decent human beings, well, that was just a pleasant surprise. And the most pleasant of said surprises, Dorian came to find, was Vaxus.

Vaxus, who by all rights should have been considered the most average man on the face of the planet. Average height. Average build. Truly, to an outside observer he must seem the very definition of ordinary. He even had some qualities Dorian found borderline off-putting. Mousey brown hair, almost always pulled back but still an unkempt mess. Stubble, always rough and course covering his lumpy, scarred face regardless of how many times a day he attempted to rid himself of it. And to say Vax was a rather hirsute gentleman would be the understatement of the year. Dorian was never a huge fan of excess body hair.

But then you get to know him. You get to see the warmth exuding from his grey eyes and the gentleness in his wide smile. You witness how even in the face of the Inquisition’s darkest hour, he manages to find a glimmer of light, and when he can’t find that glimmer, he simply becomes it. He was so unlike anyone else Dorian had ever met. Even here, now, tangled up in this Orlesian clusterfuck of a ball, there he was, standing on the balcony and smiling that same gentle smile that made Dorian weak in the knees—though he’d sooner die than admit it. And there she was, standing a mere six inches away from that maddening grin, the milky skin of her modest bosom all but spilling out of her tightly corseted gown, her plum-painted lips curled into a flirtatious smile, filling Vax’s head with Maker knows what.

Dorian couldn’t make out what they were talking about from behind the panes of stained glass that separated him from that balcony, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t mighty curious. He stood inside with his back to the nearest wall, daring to sneak a peek whenever he thought he could get away with it. Before long their exchange ended and the raven-haired temptress gave Vax a modest bow before she turned around to head back inside. Dorian resumed his previous position against the wall and pretended to neither notice nor care.

“Enjoying yourself, Master Pavus?” The woman asked in a deep, taunting contralto as she paused on the other side of the wall, the corner of which shielded her from Dorian’s view.

“Wine. Intrigue. More crimes of fashion than I dare to count. What’s not to like?” Dorian quipped.

“Judging from the solemn look that befell your face as you watched the Inquisitor and I a few moments ago, I had assumed you had more on your mind than fashion. But perhaps I was mistaken.” Ah. First shots fired.

“Perhaps you were.” Dorian answered flippantly. “That dress, my dear. Truly? A sorceress clad in black? It’s just so very… cliche. Do be so kind as to tell me who was responsible for your wardrobe this evening. We should have words.”

Morrigan let out a dry chuckle. “Ah, how droll. I suppose the Tevinter mage from a prestigious house whose rebellious behavior forced him to bounce around Circle after Circle as a means of lashing out at dear old daddy would know all about cliches, wouldn’t he?” She paused for effect, expecting Dorian to be utterly taken aback that she’d done her homework. He didn’t give her the satisfaction and remained silent.

“If you truly wish to issue a complaint about my attire, I would speak with the one they call the Nightingale. ‘Twas her advice I followed. Now, the hour grows late. I must take my leave. But fear not; I do believe we shall be seeing much more of one another in the days to come. Perhaps while I am at Skyhold advising the Inquisitor on things that actually matter, you can use your more… shall we say menial talents to make sure we all look the part. Appearances are all that matter after all, isn’t that right Master Pavus?” She paused again for a response that never came, though she could have almost sworn she heard Dorian’s jaw clenching. It made her smile broaden the smallest bit. She always did relish having the last word.

“Farewell.” And with that parting phrase, the sorceress disappeared into the haze of swirling gowns and glittering jewels and pale masks.

In an unconscious gesture, Dorian balled his hands into tight fists, his immaculate fingernails digging into his palms. It wasn’t like him. He was well known to be the sole member of the Inquisition who remained calm, cool, and collected—even under serious pressure. But the witch had managed to get under his skin. And he hated her all the more for it. And was there any truth to what she had said? Did Vax really invite her back to Skyhold? Did she manage to bewitch him that quickly?

Well, only one way to find out.

Dorian stormed outside, opening the glass doors with much greater force than was necessary, causing the few party guests loitering nearby to gasp and whisper and gawk at the freak from Tevinter—the fiendishly handsome freak, that is.

Although he was fully prepared to give the Inquisitor a piece of his mind, Vax’s dreary demeanor disarmed Dorian almost immediately. He was slumped over the edge of the balcony, staring into the dark void littered with starlight, heaving heavy sighs as his head hung low.

Well, one thing was obvious: This man was in desperate need of some cheering up. And that happened to be one of the many things Dorian excelled at. The fight could wait until they were back at Skyhold. Vax was Dorian’s light, and he simply couldn’t stand it whenever anyone or anything managed to snuff it out. The situation had to be remedied and fast.

“There was an ancient dowager looking for you. Said she had 12 daughters. I told her you’d left already.” Dorian joked. “You can thank me later or now. But you look lost in thought. Something on your mind?”

Vax let out another heaving sigh. “I’m just worn out. Tonight has been… very long.”

Dorian met the sigh with a light, almost touchable chuckle. “You won! You saved the day! Literally, the day is saved. You should be celebrating. Enjoy yourself while you can.” He proclaimed it loudly, with sweeping hand gestures and all. Vax wasn’t buying it. Seems he really was worn out.

“Hmm… what you need is a distraction. I have just the thing. Let’s dance.” Dorian bowed and offered his hand to the Inquisitor, hoping he was in good enough spirits to take it. It was then that Vax flashed him one of his brightest smiles, and a wave of relief passed over Dorian as he felt a warm hand slip into his.

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

Dorian pulled his Inquisitor close as they danced in a slow waltz.

“Thank goodness one of us has a little initiative.” The mage smirked as he rested his cheek against Vax’s, the stubble only slightly irritating his skin. “Feeling better?”

Vax nodded, making the irritation worse, but not bad enough for Dorian to pull away. “Much.”

“Glad to hear it.” Dorian paused, warring with his urge to inquire about the dark sorceress, but also desperately wanting to keep Vax’s smile firmly in place now that it had returned.

“Out with it, Dorian.” Vax demanded sweetly. “I can tell something’s on your mind.”

“Damn. Am I that transparent?”

Vax just nodded. “Yes. You are. Now what is it?”

“That woman you were speaking with…” Dorian began, not sure where exactly he wanted to take his line of inquiry from there.

“Morrigan.”

“Right. _Her._ ” He said “her” with as much disdain as he could muster, unwilling to so much as allow her name to pass his over lips. “I don’t mean to pry, but uh… she seemed to have your attention for quite a while.”

Vax pulled away almost too quickly, as though Dorian’s skin had suddenly become flame, a bewildered look passing over his blue-grey eyes. “She’s an intriguing woman, to be sure.” Vax admitted. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but is that the slightest hint of jealousy I detect in your tone?”

“Absolutely not!” Dorian almost shrieked, making no pains to hide the look of unabashed disgust now taking over his face. “It’s just… you are important. And not only to me. There are a lot of people who depend on you. And it’s important for members of the Inquisition to know who is bending your ear, especially if someone is pouring poison into it.”

It was at that moment that Vax broke their embrace completely, the slightest tinge of anger now darkening his normally almost luminescent eyes.

“So that’s what this is about? You’re angry that I spoke to someone without your consent?”

“Of course not. You are free to speak with whomever you wish. But tell me this: Did you invite her back to Skyhold?”

“How did you—”

“Just answer the question, Inquisitor.” Dorian was angry now, too. He almost never called Vax by his title—only when his temper was flaring.

“She aided me in uncovering the assassin’s plot this evening. And by imperial decree, Morrigan has been named liaison to the Inquisition.”

“Meaning what, exactly?”

“Meaning we’re up against an opponent who wields great magical power and Morrigan’s knowledge will be very useful in combating that.”

“Ah. And here I thought that’s why I’m here.”

“Dorian…”

“No, really. I’m dying to know. What does she offer that I don’t?”

“In her words, she ‘has knowledge that falls beyond the realm of most mages.’”

“Oooh. Spooky. I suppose that was just her fancy way of saying she uses blood magic. I would have thought that would offend your delicate sensibilities, what with you almost becoming a templar and all. Maker’s sake, Vax. What would your sister think?”

Vax’s face looked as though it had been slapped blindingly hard as soon as Dorian mentioned Val and he had to take a visibly deep breath to keep himself from lashing out. The Inquisitor’s sister was a very, VERY sensitive subject, and Dorian knew that. He had considered it a great honor when Vax finally worked up the courage to confide in him about her. And now, here he was, using Vax’s sister as some kind of ammunition. It was an ugly thing to do, and he regretted it as soon as he said it. If he didn’t attempt to make amends, this conversation was going to turn ugly very, very quickly, and neither Vax nor Dorian wanted that.

“Vax, I—”

“Dorian, stop. Just stop right now before you say something you’re going to regret.” Vax paused once again to collect his thoughts. “Morrigan assured me that whatever knowledge she possesses, it’s at my disposal to use—or not use—as I see fit. You may not have noticed, but I do not turn down help when it is offered. I didn’t turn down the Qunari spy, I didn’t turn down the Tevinter magister, and I certainly will not turn down Celine’s Arcane Arts adviser, or whatever her title is. That is how we win this thing. By taking all the help we can get. Do you get me?”

Dorian just folded his arms, the anger and hurt and frustration still radiating off his brown skin.

“I’m going to find the others. It’s time we got out of here. I’ll see you back at Skyhold.”

Dorian thought of replying with a “We’ll see,” or something equally threatening, but he knew he’d return to Skyhold, just as Vax did. For the first time in his life, he felt a sense of belonging there. A sense of purpose. A minor squabble certainly wasn’t going to keep him away from the very thing he’d spent his life searching for up till now. And so he remained there on the balcony, alone with his thoughts of jealousy and confusion as he watched the man he cares deeply for get lost in the crowd.

…

Hours turned into days. Days turned into weeks. And although Dorian never did become fully accepting of Morrigan’s presence at Skyhold, he did learn to tolerate her as best he could, if for no other reason than to make Vax happy. He and the Inquisitor grew closer with each passing minute, and though it scared him a trifle, he also reveled in it. He had never felt this way before, not about anyone, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for both of them. But Dorian kept telling himself to push those thoughts out of his mind—to be content with the time he and Vax shared together and stop that pesky desire always nagging at him for something… more. And luckily, whenever Dorian needed a healthy dose of reality, all he needed to do was venture out into the garden, where nine times out of ten he would see his Inquisitor either deep in conversation with his witchy nemesis, or playing and having fun with her progeny. It was sickening, really. How cute he looked with the boy, how his whole face lit up when they were engaged in a rousing game of tag or hide and seek. It became painfully apparent that Vax was at his happiest here, when he was in the throes of the semblance of a loving, albeit dysfunctional, family. A family that Dorian and he would never share. And that stung most of all.

But today was different. Today another man stood across from Morrigan in the garden, a man most decidedly _not_ Vax. A Grey Warden, Dorian observed, bedecked in silver and blue armor, tall and broad and handsome and looking at her boy with both abject shame and morbid curiosity. What in the Maker’s name…

“That’s him? I thought he’d look… I don’t know, more… demonic. Tentacles and fiery breath.”

“He is a normal boy, Alistair.” Morrigan explained.

“Uh huh. And what does he know of… how he was made?”

“He knows his father was… a good man. I… I thought you deserved that much.”

This Alistair let out a quiet but bitter laugh. “He’s changed you.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Morrigan hissed.

Interesting. _Veeeery_ interesting. And it was then that Dorian hatched a plan. Perhaps if he could find enough dirt on Morrigan, somehow prove she was up to no good, he could finally rid Skyhold of her presence once and for all. She had dug her talons into Dorian’s checkered past with virtually no regard for his privacy, after all. Time to return the favor. Now, where to begin? What was it she said at the party? Dorian made a dig at her attire and she told him to direct the complaint to someone… who was it… thinking…. thinking… AHA!

The Nightingale. The Spymaster. Leliana.

Dorian took it upon himself to pay her a little visit. He generally hated it up in that part of the tower, the smell of moldy paper and raven droppings commingled with the weight of prying eyes always following your every move. Dorian was not a fan of such scrutiny, not in Tevinter and certainly not here.

“Dorian? To what do I owe this pleasure? I was under the impression you didn’t care for the… atmosphere, up here.” Leliana greeted, not even bothering to look up from her latest missive.

“Nonsense. Your beauty is more than sufficient to lighten even the darkest corners of Skyhold.” Dorian cooed as he flashed her his best, most devastating smile.

“Uh huh. Laying it on a bit thick this morning, aren’t we? Let me guess. You want a favor.”

Leliana put two and two together quite quickly, it seemed. Dorian hated that about her.

“Well, I was hoping to pick your brain a bit, yes. If you’re willing.”

“Could be dangerous.” Leliana smirked, finally giving him the courtesy of meeting his eyes.

“Bah! I laugh in the face of danger! Hahaha!” Dorian puffed his chest as he chortled, making a big show of it before clearing his throat. “No, but seriously, could we talk?”

“Well, I’d say that depends on whether the subject is worth my time. What is it?”

“Morrigan.”

“Ah, decidedly not worth my time.” Leliana straightened the stack of papers on her desk and moved to file them away somewhere, once again completely uninterested in anything Dorian might have to say.

“Oh come now, Leliana. Judging from that response, you don’t trust her either. Some strange things have been happening and I have every intention of getting to the bottom of it with or without your assistance. Though without will certainly take longer.”

“Good for you. Not my problem.”

“‘Not your problem’? Surely the Inquisition’s Spymaster has noticed the blossoming relationship between the witch and Vaxus. And where there’s a relationship, there is influence. That affects every single one of us. Tell me this is somehow not cause for concern.”

Leliana let out a heavy sigh and hung her head before meeting Dorian’s eyes once more.

“What do you wish to know?”

“Let’s start with the basics. How do you know her?”

“I first met her when we were traveling with the Hero of Ferelden during the fifth blight. We never really got along. Morrigan can be a powerful ally. Just… never forget that she’s here because she wants something.”

“I see.”

“I will say this about her: She’s changed. She used to be so… disagreeable. Cruel. She said things just to hurt people. Now the sharp edges have worn away. Perhaps it was Keiran. I suppose becoming a mother could change anyone.”

“Speaking of Keiran, I bore witness to a rather interesting exchange that took place not moments ago.”

“Oh?”

“The Grey Warden contact who is staying with us at Skyhold.”

“Alistair.” Leliana nodded.

“Yes. Are you aware he’s the boy’s father?”

Her eyes grew wide for a split second before her face settled back into its usual vacant facade. Apparently you could take the girl out of Orlais, but you couldn’t take Orlais out of the girl.

“It’s… complicated.” Was all she offered.

“So I gathered. The way he looked at the child… there was nothing paternal about it. And I should know; I consider myself the authority on shitty father figures. Alistair mentioned he was surprised at how normal the boy seemed. He was amazed there was nothing ‘demonic’ about him. Do you know anything about that?”

“As I said… it’s complicated. Morrigan saved Alistair’s life. The Hero of Ferelden’s life. Well, technically Keiran saved them, but Morrigan made it possible.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It is not my secret to reveal. I’m sorry.”

“Oh please. We both know you’re not some pillar of virtue, Leliana. You’ve done things, unspeakable things, in the name of the Maker and in the name of the Inquisition. And you choose now, when Vax might be in danger, to suddenly become all self-righteous?”  
“Ah, speaking bluntly now, are we? Very well. Stop pretending this is about protecting the Inquisitor when we both know this is about your own insecurity in your relationship with him. If you wish to know about the circumstances surrounding Keiran’s conception, I suggest you ask one of the two people who were present for it. Now kindly get out of my sight.” Leliana went back to the impressive pile of intel and correspondence strewn across her desk, shutting Dorian out now completely, as though a brand new wall were just erected between them.

 _Well, that went splendidly, no?_ Dorian thought to himself. He could talk to the Grey Warden, as Leliana so rudely suggested. See if he’d be willing to reveal more than Leliana did. But Dorian knew that Grey Wardens were especially fond of keeping secrets, and the nature of this particular line of inquiry was beyond personal. This Alistair was a stranger to Dorian. He’d have no reason to be candid. Still, he had to try. Nothing ventured nothing gained and all that.

…

The trek to the top of the battlements was long and drafty and altogether unpleasant. There was a reason Dorian chose the library as his usual haunt—the outdoorsy type he was not. But the effort paid off as he spied the Grey Warden he sought standing tall, the shock of his strawberry blond hair contrasting with the grey stone walls surrounding him, his expression dour but contemplative, arms folded across his chest as though he were defying the frigid wind itself. Ah. This should be fun.

“My my, it’s colder than a witch’s teat out here. Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable inside… uh, Alistair, was it?” Dorian greeted warmly.

“Guilty. I’m fine here.” Was all the warden returned.

“I am Dorian. A pleasure. Do you require anything? Are you being treated well? I am quite well connected, I assure you. One word from me and—”

“As I said, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Forgive me, but you seem troubled.”

“Forgive _me,_ but why do you care?” Alistair shot back.

“What’s happening with the Grey Wardens… it’s truly terrible. As a mage who hails from Tevinter, let’s say I know a thing or two about being a pariah. I just thought you might want to talk to someone who can understand what you’re going through.”

“I appreciate the offer, but only a Grey Warden can truly know what’s going through my mind.”

“You’re in luck. We have one, you know. Shall I fetch him that you two may talk shop?”

Alistair let out a slight chuckle. “There’s one Grey Warden in particular I was referring to, but thanks all the same.”

“Ah, the famed Hero of Ferelden, yes? I hear you two are awfully close.”

“That we are.” Alistair nodded, the slightest of blushes painting the apples of his cheeks as he thought of his absent love.

“Forgive me for being forward but, speaking of cold witches, I saw you speaking with Morrigan earlier...”

Alistair’s eyes narrowed and lips clamped shut, the hints of mirth that were shining through his otherwise frosty exterior immediately vanishing.

“Leliana told me. About what happened between you.” Yes, truly, a little bluff here and there could take you far.

“Leliana has an awfully big mouth for someone who fancies herself a master of secrets.” Alistair groaned.  
“You can talk to me, if you’d like. I’m not just a pretty face, you know. I also happen to be an excellent listener.” Dorian smiled broad and warm as Alistair looked off into the distant sky, no doubt battling with the inner demons of his inescapable past. The silence seemed to stretch on forever, but Dorian’s patience was rewarded when Alistair finally broke it.

“I just… I don’t know what to make of all this. It was the right thing to do. We agreed it was. It saved us. That ritual saved us. That’s what I told myself for years.”

A million emotions were reflected in Alistair’s honey-colored eyes as they made their way back to Dorian’s. Anger, relief, fear, melancholy… then, as his eyes filled with unshed tears, he settled on regret. Dorian kept his mouth shut. Alistair wanted to say more, he could see that. He’d kept this to himself for years and was just about ready to explode under the weight of his secret. Let him, Dorian thought. Let him spill his guts. Alistair would play right into his hands.

“But… but what of the cost? Seeing him here, now, after all these years… He’s just a boy. I don’t understand how that’s possible. Morrigan used me, used us, just so she could have him, the power he possesses. I know that now. But, in a way, I guess we used her, too.”  

“There is a reason she’s here, Alistair. I believe she’s using the Inquisitor for her own gain, just as she used you and your Warden love. You know her quite _ahem,_ intimately, it seems. Tell me, is she a threat to us? What is she really after?”

Alistair let out a bitter laugh. “There is only one thing I can tell you about Morrigan with absolute certainty, and that is this: Your guess is as good as mine.”

…

With the efforts of Dorian’s labor proving to be all but fruitless, he returned to the library, intent on digging up whatever he could on The Hero of Ferelden, the fifth blight, and Grey Wardens in general. He had some pieces of the puzzle, but he couldn’t quite fit them together to form a clear picture in his mind. His quest was interrupted, however, when Mother Giselle made an appearance.

“What is it you think you’re doing?” The old woman all but spat at him.

“I’m being clucked at by an old hen, evidently.” Dorian retorted as he continued rummaging through the texts.

“Don’t play the fool with me, young man.”

“If I wanted to play the fool, I could be rather more convincing, I assure you.”

“Your glib tongue does you no credit.” Mother Giselle rolled her eyes.

“You’d be surprised at the credit my tongue gets me, your reverence.” Dorian intimated.

Before Mother Giselle could even hope to formulate some sort of comeback for that gem, Vax joined their little party.

“Oh, I—”

“What’s going on here?” Vax asked as he stared accusingly at the crone.

“It seems the revered mother is concerned about my _undue influence_ over you.”

Oh, the irony. All this time spent trying to discredit Morrigan’s intentions, and there was Dorian being scolded for precisely what he was accusing her of. Ridiculous.

“It is just concern. Your worship, you must know how this looks.” Mother Giselle implied with a raised brow and a hand that gestured to the Inquisitor and Dorian standing in very close proximity to one another.

“You might need to spell it out, my dear.” Dorian taunted.  
“This man is of Tevinter. His presence at your side… the rumors alone…”

“There is no cause for concern, your reverence.” Vax defended in his usual calming and unmistakably reassuring way.

“With all due respect, you underestimate the effect this man has on the people’s good opinion.”

“Do the people know how he’s helped the Inquisition?” Vax countered.

“I… see. I meant no disrespect, Inquisitor. Only to ask after this man’s intentions. If you feel he is without ulterior motive, then I humbly beg forgiveness of you both.” And with that, the revered mother gave the slightest of bows and took her leave.

“It doesn’t feel good, does it?” Vax posed as soon as she was out of earshot.

“...What?” Dorian asked.

“People questioning your motives. People being distrustful of you because of your background, where you come from. Must be tough, being unable to step out from the shadow of your past that’s cast over everything you do.”

Dorian bit his lips into a thin line and averted his eyes from Vax’s knowing gaze. He knew he was well and truly busted.

“...Well? Cat got your tongue?” Vax prodded.

“Alright, I confess. I’ve been doing some… research.”

“About Morrigan.”

“Yes, well, as it turns out, my suspicions were not completely unfounded. I did find evidence of—”

“Of her saving the Hero of Ferelden and playing a pivotal role in ending the blight?” Vax finished Dorian’s statement for him.

“Well, yes, but that’s—”

“Tell me, did you find evidence of her undermining the Inquisition in any way, shape, or form?”

“Well, not exactly, but—”

“Then that’s all I need to know. People are not guilty until proven innocent, Dorian. It should be the other way around. You, of all people, should be able to appreciate that.”

“I…” Dorian swallowed hard. Eating crow was most assuredly not his cuisine of choice. “I suppose you have a point there. I suppose I can even see where the revered mother was coming from. Someone intelligent would cozy up to the Inquisitor if they could. They would be foolish not to. He could open doors, get you whatever you want. Shower you with gifts and power. That’s what they’ll say. I’m the magister who’s using you. And who could blame them when I felt the exact same way about Morrigan? I’m… a hypocrite.”

“Dorian, I only meant—”

“Don’t, Vax. I… I was an ass. About this whole Morrigan business. It’s my specialty. I apologize. I just… seeing you with her, I—”

“She and I are friends, Dorian. Nothing more.” Vax placed a reassuring hand on Dorian’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “As a matter of fact, the reason I came up here in the first place was that I hoped to steal a moment alone with you.”

Dorian’s brows raised immediately at the admission. He had been patient with Vax. Beyond patient, to put it bluntly. The Inquisitor never seemed overly concerned with, er, desires of the flesh. Flirting, hand-holding, hugs, kisses, the occasional waltz, that was all well and good, but he never showed any desire to take things... further. That is, until now.

“...Really?”

Vax nodded, his eyes illuminated with desire and affection as he ran the back of his hand down Dorian’s immaculately sculpted cheek.

“Well, have you been to your quarters lately, by chance?” Dorian smirked.

“Not recently.” Vax smiled back.

“Do, when you have the time. There’s... something there that might interest you.”

**Author's Note:**

> There is a lot of background on Vax that is a very interesting read, such as his relationship with his sister. I'd suggest shooting a PM to ajir if you'd like links! 
> 
> When Morrigan says she took Leliana's fashion advice, I refer to a piece of banter they share in Origins where Leliana suggests she should wear her hair up and don a long velvet gown that showcases her neckline. 
> 
> Hope you liked it!


End file.
